


Anything

by RaeSone99



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, mentions of Raylicity, speculative fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:25:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeSone99/pseuds/RaeSone99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver trying to maneuver the distance between him and Felicity after the fall out from 3x01.  First time writing in the Arrow-verse. Hopefully not too much damage done!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while, do we still do the whole 'characters not mine' thing? If so then that applies! My attempt at figuring out how they'd relate after Felicity starts up with Ray.

         The lair was quiet except for the offbeat typing from Felicity and Oliver’s trance inducing rhythm on the salmon ladder. After a whole month of working the team overtime trying to catch a new shrinking vigilante he’d sent the team home early. They'd nicknamed him 'the Atom'  because Sara and Felicity were nerds and Diggle and Roy thought 'Invisible Shrinking Guy' was silly. Outnumbered he'd conceded defeat.

       Only Felicity remained behind. Finally, when he wasn’t sure he had arms or hands anymore Oliver dropped off of the highest rung. He’d been at it for hours; punching dummies, running through his forms, pushups, crunches, the whole nine, at one point even slapping water. The last elicited an exasperated glance from Felicity before she turned back into her “world of zeroes and ones” as she put it. Normally, she would have made a quip about his technique, which would’ve immediately morphed into double entendre and then a social gaffe which he graciously would have ignored. However ever since their nigh infamous date night he’d been forced to interpret silence and irritation and beneath that anger and sadness stemming from an impasse the size of Montana, which neither of them were able to break.

       Oliver sighed in the shower. How did he manage to meet and offend so many stubborn women? After washing his hair he toweled dry and stepped into a soft t-shirt and jeans. His showers were always short since the island. The hot water felt like an unnecessary indulgence and the walls made him feel like he was in an early, watery grave. It wasn’t his favorite activity.

      Mentally, he counted and named them: Laurel, Sara, Shado, his mother, Thea, even Isobel, but she’d hated him from start to finish, and Felicity. Seven stubborn women...eight if he counted Amanda Waller: It was a blues song waiting to happen. The local Chinese in his town thought he was a smidge cursed. But what else do you say to the man who lands in Hong Kong with no family, no dwelling, no money, and no knowledge of Chinese? They all thought he’d angered someone powerful. Then they met Waller and knew it.

     Oliver smiled humorlessly to himself as he picked up his “toys”. Not what he’d call a bow staff that could kill a man ten different ways but Felicity had her own terms. And the silence between them was killing him. He’d done everything he could to get her attention. ‘Yeah, everything except talk to her’ his inner Diggle commented dryly. Oliver growled to himself as he scaled the side of the salmon ladder to retrieve the bar. Sara hated when he left it at the top. Made it too easy she’d said.

     Oliver furrowed his brow as he retrieved the arrows from the tennis balls he’d pinned to the wall-almost effortlessly performing parkour tricks to grab them. His mind wandered. Once he’d sprained his ankle and while he alternated between glaring at the wall and staring morosely Felicity dragged a ladder to him. ‘I know you’d prefer to be all Arrowy’ her hands fluttered in the air, ‘but this is how everyone else does it and it works pretty well.’ He’d frowned at it, ‘We have a ladder?’ Felicity stared at him indulgently before walking away. ‘Yeah, I had to remind Sara about it so she wouldn’t kill you the other day.’ He’d smiled at her, not realizing he was staring until she pointed upwards and he remembered the ladder. Oliver smiled to himself reliving the memory. At the time he’d thought nothing of their exchange. He shot a look to Felicity’s station, where she was studiously ignoring him. He wondered if it was possible to get back to nothing. Wondered if she was really working or thinking about Ray... Maybe Diggle was right, he thought as he finished sweeping up the remains of a bow staff. He’d have to buy Sara another one. He winced, inwardly anticipating the look on her face. This would be number four.

      Oliver tensed. Something wasn’t right in the lair. His eyes swept the area before resting on Felicity’s empty chair. No Felicity. No typing. How long had she been gone? Inner Slade this time, “You gotta pay more attention kid.” Was it possible she’d left without him knowing? He felt cold.

“I do love a man who sweeps.”

       He found her by the stairs all pink lips and blue eyes ready to go. He stared at her for a moment surprised by the olive branch. But was it just for tonight or for everything? Or had she simply been commenting? A line appeared between her eyebrows and realized he was taking too long to respond. He did not say, “You love me?” He did not say, “I love a woman who can hack high security databases.” He did not say “Ray sweeps?” He did not say, “I love you. He did not say “I’m sorry. Can we start over?” He didn’t say anything. He did however stare at her like a man who’d been on an island for five years and forgotten basic social protocols. Her words crashed and burned between them. When the silence as too much she looked away, he thought disappointed. His fault, always his fault. Backing away she called out, “Hey Oliver? I’m gonna call it a night…” before turning her back to him for the stairs, shrugging her jacket on.

      “Felicity…Can we talk?” Felicity glanced at the door as though willing one of the others to break through breathless with news. Nothing.

“Can it wait? I kinda have plans with Ray tonight…”

Well boohoo for Ray. Ray was the reason he was in this situation to start with.

“Actually it’s about Ray,” he ground out.

She whirled around, and her eyes lasered in on him. It’d been a while since he’d had her full attention and he quashed the thought that it had taken Ray Palmer to get it. Not that he disliked Ray; he actually liked him a lot. Pre-island Oliver would have called him a friend. In fact, that’s probably what Ray thought they were when he’d confided in Oliver Queen.

He was too quiet too long and in a flash *wince* she’d closed the distance between them. Oliver closed his eyes, overwhelmed. Her scent, her warmth, her hand on his arm…was he being an idiot to try and ignore their feelings? Inner Diggle and Slade said ‘yes’. He missed this, he missed her so much. Hadn’t known it was possible to be in the same room with a person and miss them.

“Oliver!” she snapped, squeezing her hand, “Is something wrong? Is he okay? I had the hospital monitor up just in case, you know, Thea…” Oliver felt his heart contract at the mention of his missing kid sister and Felicity seeing it rushed on, “but I didn’t…nothing came…” she brushed past him and woke up her monitors. Her shoulders sagged with relief when she didn’t see his name on the screen. Oliver felt conflicted. On the one hand if he told her Ray’s secret it might mess up her relationship with a guy she clearly cared about. On the other hand when she found out and it was a when, and when she found out he knew it could destroy whatever goodwill he felt towards him. Oliver clenched his jaw. Either way he lost. Felicity turned to face him, both relieved and confused.

“He’s not in the hospital.” He nodded. Looking into her face he knew his decision. His choice. He unclenched his jaw.

“Last weekend I was with Ray at the boxing ring. We were uh hanging out.” Felicity’s eyes narrowed, clearly hearing the stumble, wondering what he was omitting... She still read him better than anyone. He rushed on not wanting to talk about Laurel and Wildcat.

“We saw someone there I knew and started joking about people having secret identities and leading double lives.” Felicity stilled, absorbing every word.

"He looked at me kinda funny and asked if I could keep a secret.” The color drained from Felicity’s face and Oliver suddenly felt as though she knew what he was going to say.

“I said sure, no secret squirrel better than Oliver Queen, you know thinking he was joking…” he dropped off as Felicity walked back to her computers, unsteady, and sat down. Her purse hit the floor. Oliver rushed to her side grabbing Sara’s chair, closest because she and Felicity liked to speak computer to each other. He stared at her waiting for her to open her eyes. She did and they were like steel daring him to say it. Oliver watched her unhappily. She was already upset with them but now she might hate him for telling her. He grabbed her hand needing to reassure himself, took a deep breath and she stole the words from him,

“He’s the Atom,” she said it matter-of-fact but sadly, “How long…?”

“A week. I kept trying to figure out ways to tell you but…”

“I know. Same here.” He realized he was playing with her fingers acting out his anxiety. She didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied. He remained quiet letting her think, memorizing this moment. Finally she blew out a breath.

“Figures,” she smiled at him wryly. He raised one eyebrow.

“He’s number three. First you, then Barry, now him. Apparently, I have a type.”

Thoughtlessly, looking at their intertwined hands he murmured, “Well, I’m glad I’m your type.”

She froze and he imagined her suddenly paying attention to how close they were, how their knees were touching, and their fingers entangled.

“Oliver,” she whispered in warning and he could hear every argument, and reason, and defense he’d had for why they shouldn’t why he couldn’t crumbling, crumbling, crumbling. He looked up from their hands to her eyes to her lips not realizing his other hand was already woven in her hair, just that he’d wanted to do this for so long. He felt her eyes searching his face, reading his every expression for any doubt, for any misgivings. He knew she wouldn't find anything there; he’d be sure of how much he loved her until he died.

_Felicity dying in his arms. Felicity not breathing in a silver table. Diggle yelling clear as Oliver stopped compressions. The scars he’d never wanted her to have._

His fault. All his fault.

He flinched.

She sighed against his lips.

Gently, she kissed his forehead and untangled her fingers from his. Silence again. He didn’t know how many times they’d done this dance. He didn’t move. Not when she stood up. Not when she turned off the monitors, not when she bumped into Diggle on her way out yelling something about Ray. Diggle sat down in Felicity’s chair and crossed his arms. Finally, Oliver looked up and met his eyes. There was nothing there but empathy. Already knowing Diggle’s opinion on the state of things he simply nodded. Digg clapped his shoulder,

“Wanna spar some?”

Oliver nodded at him gratefully, and listened as his partner recapped what was happening with Team Arrow. And if Diggle thought Oliver seemed a little tired he didn’t say anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and thanks for all the love you all! I'm so thrilled!


End file.
